


feasting upon the angel's corpse

by Allegory



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Loneliness, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Threesome - M/M/M, disordered eating patterns, except its not very sexy, its just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegory/pseuds/Allegory
Summary: "The point," Keito continued. "Is that I've seen him without clothes, and I've seen what he's done to himself. And I'm worried of the possibility- of-"He couldn't get the words out of his throat. Scowling, he dropped the half-smoked cigarette and squashed it underfoot."You mean, the box cutters?"
Relationships: Hasumi Keito/Hibiki Wataru/Tenshouin Eichi, Hasumi Keito/Tenshouin Eichi, Hibiki Wataru/Tenshouin Eichi
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

Eichi thinks to himself, I'm going to die.

It's another day without sleep, and his legs are shaking from hour upon hour of practice. He watches the sun rise through the morning dew. It's noon and he hasn't rested for far too long. Not that he hasn't tried, but trying and the consequent failure just makes it worse.

How desperate he is to be a worthy idol. To live up to Fine and the precious circle of friends he's made. Yet here he is,the only one who can't get the choreography right. And he's the leader of their unit? More like a pretty face with his pockets full of cash.

That's all he is. That's all he'll ever be. At this rate he should be ashamed of his fear for death. He'd be better off dead. 

Raised with a cape around his shoulders and all the tutelage he could desire and he still falls short, blaming his constitution, when really he just has no talent, no use in this world.

He wishes something bad would happen to him. He wishes he'd be gunned down or that he'd die of a heart attack. It's enough. Hasn't it been enough for too long now? The burning in his chest and the years of trying desperately to be something he can't be. He'll never be like Nagisa. He'll never be like Hiyori. He'll never be like Wataru. 

He'll never be anything ever. Anything but a complete waste of space and time and resource.


	2. 2

"My dear emperor, we'll be late if you keep stalling like this."

"I don't want to move."

"My, my. Come now, there isn't time to-"

"I don't want to leave the bed."

Wataru walked into the bedroom. They'd moved in together just a while ago, and there were still boxes piled up all over the place.

Amidst all this mess was Eichi lying by the side of their shared bed, curled into a ball. He was staring at the wall.

"Are you unwell?"

Silence.

Wataru shook his shoulder gently.

His eyes seemed to focus a fraction. Almost as if he'd been pulled out of another world, Eichi looked at him.

"Un."

Wataru climbed onto the bed. He lied down next to Eichi and gazed at him. His face was limned by the sunlight coming in from their narrow window. There was a sunflower pot on the sill, and the fuzzy center of the flower cast its shadow over his cheeks.

Wataru tried to hold him. Let him know he was there. Eichi shrugged him off.

Wataru lied down flat on the bed, his arms crossed over his body. They were very still.

*

Later that day, Wataru cooked a light dinner for them both. Eggs, bacon, crispy lettuce and homemade bronzed buns. The dressing was made from scratch too, and the table looked like what one might see at a first rate cafe. He'd also pulled out two of the tiramisu cups he'd been saving for their house (apartment) warming party that Sunday.

Wataru, being Wataru, lit a scentless candle in an elegant silver holder, and opened the windows of the kitchen so that the fresh night air might provide a soothing influence. Eichi arrived a while after Wataru took his apron off. It was the usual time at which they had dinner.

Eichi's eyes ran over the elaborate setup. Wataru had even pulled out the flannel tablecloth.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

Eichi sat down. He stared at the plate before him, which smelled of tenderly marinated beef.

"I'm not really hungry."

Wataru nodded. "That's fine. I'll put it in the Tupperware for you to have later tonight."

"I'll stay though. The candle is a nice touch."

Throughout dinner, Eichi kept the palm of his hand close to the candle's little fire, desperate for its warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments disabled because I don't feel well enough to reply atm. Thanks for reading.


	3. 3

"Want to tell me exactly why you two flaked out, Hibiki-kun?"

Keito was in one of his moods- that much was obvious.

To be fair, it wasn't a matter to make light of. Their meeting had been important for the work Eichi was doing behind the scenes, and the director of a large idol company had set aside time in his day to meet him. It had been up to Keito in the end to apologize profusely for Eichi and Wataru's absence. Given his prideful nature, the memory still stung.

"You know how Eichi has been," Wataru said, apologetically.

It was one of the reasons why they'd moved in together. All the spark in Eichi's eyes had faded after they graduated from Yumenosaki. It was like he'd been replaced by someone new- or rather, that a deep part of him had come to overtake the hard-working Eichi everyone knew. In the first place, Keito had advocated their co-habitation, knowing how much Eichi admired and looked up to Wataru, and hoping it would provide him with fuel and inspiration. 

Presently, Keito was coming to regret it. He thought perhaps he ought to have moved in with Eichi instead. Perhaps Wataru's presence, however loving it might've been, was also causing Eichi a great deal of stress. It was one thing to fail, another to fail in front of a loved one- and to bear the fear of being judged by them.

"Let me talk to him the next time we meet," Keito said.

"I doubt that he wants to. It's hard enough getting him out of bed these days. The most I can do, really, is take him on walks and hope the air cheers him up."

"Bring him on a date, I'll crash it."

"What do you intend to say to him?"

"That's for him to know."

*

Apparently not. Wataru had just returned from the restroom when a ceramic plate crashed on the floor. His eyes found Eichi and Keito, who was trying to grab him.

"Don't touch me!"

Eichi's voice broke. It was a painful thing to hear- like the wail of a dying animal.

Everyone was watching. Keito, disliking the attention, immediately backed away. Eichi slipped out of the restaurant, his fists clenched rigidly by his sides.

Wataru paid the bill. He and Keito walked out to the back of the diner, where Wataru witnessed something so bizarre he thought he was in a dream: Keito, smoking. His hands were shaking as he lit a cigarette. After a few puffs, his condition seemed to improve. He took his glasses off and tucked them in his coat pocket.

"Have you two been intimate before?" Keito said, suddenly.

"Eichi can't exert himself that much."

"He lied. We've fucked before."

Keito allowed it to sink in. Both regarding their past intimacy and the fact that he'd just sworn.

"It was for comfort. We never dated or anything of the sort. He was...in a dark void like this, before. We were only children, and he asked it of me, and I thought it was a kindness to go along with his wish. Seeing as he's not going to live very long."

"The point," Keito continued. "Is that I've seen him without clothes, and I've seen what he's done to himself. And I'm worried of the possibility- of-"

He couldn't get the words out of his throat. Scowling, he dropped the half-smoked cigarette and squashed it underfoot. 

"You mean, the box cutters?"

Keito stared at him. 

"When we moved out," Wataru explained. "He was busy at a conference, so I took over in his stead and made sure the movers didn't miss anything. I was just idling. Tapping furniture. Pulled a drawer. There were some papers, a comb. Four box cutters. Some with very rusty blades."

"A green and blue one?"

Wataru nodded.

"He kept them. Strange to think of Eichi as a hoarder." 

"But he didn't pack them into his boxes. Presumably, that means nothing has occurred?"

"I tried...to ask him about it earlier. I wanted him to tell me the truth- and he told me he hasn't done it, but I- I couldn't believe him." 

Keito swore again. Suddenly, his knees felt too weak to support his weight, and he slid to the ground, burying his head in his arms. More than the cigarette, the fear that he had pushed Eichi over the edge choked him like a snake around his lungs. 


End file.
